Why the Title?

Saturday, November 24, 2012

Notes written on the death of my mother.

...she's not breathing, but her heart is still beating. I hold the phone to her ear. Lorne talks to her.

Her heart slowly stops. She's peaceful. I'm so glad her battle is over. She's so tired.

The nurse comes in. She check's Mom's pulse. She checks her pupils - they are dilated. She is gone. It's 9:15.

We cry. We are so sad. Yet, relieved.

We pack her things. I feel so strange, packing up Mom's belongings. It's almost a violation of her affairs. We can't find Mom's wedding ring.

We wait for Ron. Rick comes and helps me carry everything to the trunk of the car.

Finally, Ron and Laura arrive.They don't wish to see Mom's body. They'd rather remember her alive.

Rick and I go back into the room to get my purse and jacket, and Mom's cane. I kiss her goodbye. She's cool now. I am reluctant to leave. I feel like I should do something. I want to take care of her. I don't want to abandon her.

I leave, feeling a great sense of loss and loneliness. I'm sorry, Mom. I know you're not in there. That body is an empty shell.